


The Man Who Talks to Cars

by oceankat8



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceankat8/pseuds/oceankat8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy was only eight years old when he saw him. A strange man in a big trench coat in the middle of summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man Who Talks to Cars

The boy was only eight years old when he saw him. A strange man in a big trench coat in the middle of summer. He and his friends were playing a game of “catch the toad” next to the clearing in the woods with the really old car. His Ma had told him to stay away, but being a little boy of eight years old, surrounded by other little boys of eight years old, he had failed to heed her warning.

 Which is how the boy had come to see the strange grown-up in the big trench coat in the middle of summer.

 They didn’t talk, at least, the boy and the grown up never exchanged words with each other. The boy, who had been so distracted by the strange man, had gotten separated from his friends.  The grown up, whom didn’t notice the boy for he himself was distracted, was talking to the car.

 Or rather, it seemed as if it was to the car that the man was talking. The boy would not remember exactly what it was the strange man would say to the car, but he would remember how he felt when he snuck closer to hear it.

 The strange grown up that talks to cars was sad. Very sad. The same kinda sad he heard in his Ma’s voice when she talked about his Pa and how he went away. He could tell. The same emotion in the soft song of his mother’s voice had etched itself into the gravel of the strange man’s voice as well.

 Then the boy thought that maybe the car belonged to this man. Which didn’t make much sense because why would he leave it in the middle of nowhere in the woods where little boys play “Catch the Toad”?

 But it _was_ old. Really old. The kinda car his grandpa mighta liked with the funny names and a date he’d somehow expect the boy to know.

 Maybe the car was broken? Because it was so old. It makes more sense like that. ‘cause then he _had_ to leave it if it didn’t work, and maybe that’s why he sounded so sad. He lost his car.

 The last thing the boy would remember about the strange old man would be that he never once cried no matter how sad he got, and that the car must’ve been named Dean.

 

~o~

 

Her name was Amelia, she was twelve years old, and she knew everything there was to know.

                           Babies came from storks

                           Spot was staying at a farm up-state

                           The old cat lady across the street was a witch

                           And the rusty old car in the clearing in the middle of the woods was haunted

 Her Uncle told her so. He also said it was something called an Alpaca 67, because it was a really fancy car and fancy cars need to be called by their fancy names.

 Amelia was actually headed towards the rusty old alpaca. It was one of her favorite places to hang out because she liked climbing on the hood and talking to the ghost.

 She knew it was a boy ghost too, because only boy ghosts really care about fancy sounding old-cars. So she called him Mr. Ghost.

 Most of the time she told him all about her day, what boys she kissed, what trees she climbed, how many apples she and her friend Becky stole from farmer McDanny, etc…

 But sometimes she asks him questions he never answers. At first she thought it was kinda rude of him not to answer her at all, but then she figured on account of him being a ghost an’ all he mightn’t have any vocal chords to talk with, so she forgave him.

 She was almost to the clearing where the haunted car was when she heard a deep growl. Being the smart girl she was, she thought maybe a lion had found her little hiding spot and was talking to her ghost friend.

 But her uncle had told her not to go near if she heard someone else talking to to the ghost and Amelia supposed he meant lions too….

 Then again… lions ain’t exactly people. So… Amelia got to climbing her favorite tree and using the branches to make her way to the tree right next to the Alpaca. (The tree she jumped out of when she wanted to surprise Mr. Ghost.)

 But it wasn’t a lion she saw talking to Mr. Ghost. It was a grown-up.

 Grown-ups never came to this part of the woods. Only her Uncle ever mentioned it before and that’s because he used to be a little kid too. Which Amelia could believe since, unlike other grown-ups that never were kids before, her Uncle was lots of fun. 

And he told her everything she needed to know about becoming a grown-up herself. At least, if she wanted to.

 This grown-up didn’t look like he was ever a kid. He had this deep-gravelly-lion voice and was talking to her ghost friend, but didn’t call him Mr. Ghost. He called him some name, Dee.

 Amelia didn’t know what kinda name Dee was, but she supposed maybe ghosts had different names too? And by the way the weird growly grown-up sounded, it was very sad.

 Maybe he could understand what Mr. Ghost was saying despite his lack of vocal chords and physical body?

 Or Maybe he was an old friend of Mr. Ghost! And that’s how he knows his name and everything! That would explain why he’s so sad sounding. Amelia would be sad too if Becky was suddenly a ghost, ‘cause then all ther talks would be really one-sided and they couldn’t much go on an adventure on account of Becky having to haunt a specific place.

 Amelia quickly slipped from the tree so Mr. Ghost and his strange friend didn’t see her. She was so going to tell her Uncle about this!

 

~0~

 

Rebeka Easton was 36 years old. She was married to her childhood sweetheart and had two beautiful baby boys. One of which was currently missing.

 She sighed. Her little boy was always off causing trouble, it didn’t matter what day it was or how much work they had to get done that day.

 She’d already checked McDanny’s old farm, where she and Amy used to cause their own mischief as children, but he wasn’t there. He also wasn’t under the bridge at the creak, nor hiding at the candy store hoping for a handout, and he wasn’t at Sarah’s _or_ Tommy’s house…

 There was really only one place left to check and it gave her the creeps. She knew Amy used to go there all the time, but her Uncle told such creepy stories, about ghosts and such. She was gonna kill him if he didn’t stop telling her kids about it.

 He’d somehow managed to convince them it was haunted by a ghost, named Dean of all things! And that some mysterious ageless vampire-or fairy-or _something_ came to visit him. The only thing ageless in this world was the stupidity of old-men!

 And of course the love of her life had to jump in and act like it was all 100% true.

 Sometime she wondered exactly what kind of crazy she married into.

 “Joey!” Her voice echoed into the trees around her, birds and insects chirping merrily, as if nothing was wrong in the world. “Joey come here!”

 Rebeka didn’t want to go near the creepy ass car. To be honest, it was little more than scrap metal by this point anyways. All the color had completely rusted off, leaving only the faintest hint of a previously black paint job. The windows were filthy and broken, the leather seat cracked and peeling. The bumper and license plate were hanging off at odd angles the last time she had seen it, perhaps they'd fallen off by now. There wasn’t much holding it together.

 She heard voices coming from the clearing, just in front of her. She quickly hid behind a tree, fallen leaves crunching beneath her boots.

 “…of mine”

 “Do you miss him very much? My uncle Joe says you come visit him a lot. I don’t know why since ghosts don’t talk all that much. Mum says if I want to talk to a ghost I hafta go to heaven, or else the won’t be able to...to…”

 “Manifest?”

 “Yeah! Manni-pest!”

 “I’m afraid I can’t go to heaven to talk to him though. They locked me out a long time ago, this is as close as I can get to him.”

 “Oh, can he hear you then? All the way from heaven? ‘Cause Ma says she used to talk to the ghost here all the time and it would be a mighty big waste if he hadn’t heard nuthin’ she said”

 “I’m sure he heard every word Joseph. He was always very particular about his car, and I doubt he ever stopped watching over her.”

 “Oh, that’s good then”

 “Your parents are no doubt looking for you. You should head home.”

 “Won’t you be lonely all by yourself mister?”

 “No, I’ll have Dean for company”

 Rebeka snuck farther away from the clearing as she processed what she just heard.  When she got Joey back home she was gonna have a long talk with her wife’s Uncle and pulling mean pranks on little boys.

 

~0~

 

There were two kids playing tag in the way little children do. A boy and a girl. One blond, One brunette. One with green eyes and one with blue. One with freckles, one with chapped lips.

 Currently the little girl was hiding from the little boy because she was tired of running and the little boy was faster than her, and so she had decided to hide instead.

 Of course she knew the perfect spot to hide. It was the old rusty car, it smelled really- really bad, but she didn’t want to breathe through her mouth because she was afraid if she did the taste would get stuck on her tongue and that was much worse than just _smelling_ it.

 It was the perfect place because according to her Pa, it was haunted, but by a friendly ghost. See, it was very much common knowledge that the car was haunted, and lots of people told lots of creepy ghost stories all about it, so most people assumed it was a mean ghost and were afraid to visit him. But her Pa assured her it was a friendly ghost, and that occasionally it was perfectly okay to talk to him.

 Because apparently it was a boy ghost. Which is weird because why would a ghost be a boy or girl when it could just be a ghost?

 Anyways, the little boy that the girl was hiding from would definetly not look here for her. Boys were scaredy cats. Daddies were brave, but boys were scaredy cats. It’s science. Her grandmas told her so.

 “Hello Delilah”

 The little girl jumped out of her place in the car, before quickly fitting herself back out of sight.

 “shhhhhhh Mr. Ghost sir” the little girl she whispered noisily, “You’ll tell him where I’m hiding!!!”

 “I’m sorry,” the ghost smiled at her, “do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

 “Okay, but you have to sit in the shotgun seat… I think I’m stuck”

 “It’s okay, I prefer that seat anyways,” He opened the door and settled in next to the young girl. “And I’m not a ghost”

 “That’s just what a ghost would say, you know?”

 “Is it?”

 “yep”

 “What would I say if I wasn’t a ghost then?” His smile reached almost to his eyes as he chuckled softly.

 “I don’t know, most not-ghosts don’t often have to prove they ain’t ghosts you know?”

 “True” He seemed to nod along with her logic. “Do you know many ghosts?”

 “No, just you. You ought to know quite a few ghosts though.”

 “I have known a few,” the ghost’s smile grew sad, dimmed with memories.

 “My Pa says the ghost here is named Dean,”

 “He is, your father’s name is Johnathan yes?”

 “No, he’s Pa.”

 “Of course”

 “So you’re name’s Dean?”

 “No, my name is Castiel.”

 “Oh… are you a different ghost then?”

 “I’m not a ghost. I am a friend of Dean’s. I try to visit him as often as I can,”

 “Why isn’t he in heaven?”

 “He is, happy with his family”

 “Then how is he here?”

 “She was important to him. She will always hold a piece of his soul,”

 “So he’s here _and_ in heaven?” The ghost chuckled.

 “I suppose that’s a way to describe it”

 “Oh”

 The two sat in silence for a moment longer. Both lost in thought and comfortable around the other.

 “I should probably go find my friend.” The little girl looked up at him. “He’s a boy so he’s probably gone and gotten himself lost. You know, like boys do…”

 “I know well”

 “Bye…” the little girl left the lonely ghost behind to go find her friend.

 

~0~

 

Dee was just turning 17. She was tall, slim, and freckle faced. Thick waves of brown hair fell down her back.

 She was curled tight into a ball, sitting in the rotting and cracked leather of a front seat of an old ’67 chevy impala that hadn’t moved for so many generations that her grandparents’ were told stories of it as children.

 She was currently there, hiding from everyone she knew, her family, friends. And she was sobbing into her own legs, alone, finally allowing her emotions to spill from her loudly. She stayed there, waiting until all the emotion drained away her energy, making her limbs heavy, and leaving it’s mark streaking down her cheeks.

 “You’re crying”

 The young woman would have jumped had she not been expecting the gravelly voice at any moment. She moved to open the passenger door for him, and he climbed smoothly into the rusting and decaying shell.

 “Yeah, nice observation Castiel”

 “You remembered”

 “Hard to forget”

 “Why were you crying?”

 “No real reason. Can probably chalk it up to teenage hormones or some other shit men say”

 “Would you like to be alone?”

 She looked up at the man. She had thought he was a ghost as a child. But year after year of returning here, getting to know him, she realized that he was the most human person she had ever met. And that he simply took comfort here, as she did. The man supposedly haunting the car was his friend once, or maybe a mentor, with how long ago the car was lost. He must have been so young.

 “No, I rather enjoy your company”

 

~0~

 

She was 21, with two packs of beer and her hair tied back, green eyes swimming with mirth.

 “Cas! You here?”  She shouted as she tumbled into the clearing. She was laughing to herself as she opened the crusty old door, falling into the driver’s seat.

 “You have alcohol” blue eyes stared at her, questioning.

 “Yep! Guess who’s legal,” she opened her first beer as he climbed in beside her.

 “Legal?” He accepted the beer she handed him, opening it and putting it to his lips in a familiar motion.

 “Yep, means I can buy this and drinks this. _Legally._ Bottoms up,”

 

~0~

 

“Cas? You here?” She snuck into the clearing, almost humming to herself in her excitement.

 “You’re glowing”

 “Am I? Truly?” She twirled, skirt flowing around her.

 “As bright as any star,” He smiled, soft, melancholy.

 “I’m married” she giggled, drunk with excitement. “The little boy. Remember him? Blond, blue eyes, he’d be lost without me…”

 “You have my blessing” She blushed.

 “Thank you”

 

~0~

 

“You’re crying again”

 “Yeah, humans have these things called emotions Cas,” She chuckled, “I don’t know about you ghosts, but we tend to cry when we’re sad,”

 “I’m sorry” He didn’t offer to leave this time. She was relieved, she might have said yes.

 They sat in silence. Birds sang to each other, crickets filled the space, the soft buzz of life was everywhere. Just not the one place she wanted it to be.

 She let out another sigh, turning towards her friend.

 “I’m barren”

 

~0~

 

“What are you reading?” She leaned into the window; the glass had been broken long ago.

 “It’s an old book” He replied.

 “That’s not really an answer is it?” She leaned closer. The pages were yellowed with age, and the title was faded to be almost unreadable. She could just barely make out the author, _Carver Edlund._

_~0~_

 

Her hair streaked with silver, but her freckles still stood out proudly against her sun kissed skin. She wasn’t young anymore, but she could never bring herself to feel old.

 Not when she looked into sad blue eyes and saw age and pain so far beyond her, despite skin that never wrinkled, and hair that never greyed.

 “You still miss him?”

 “Yes”

 

~0~

 

“You’re not crying”

 “Not this time,” She smiled, and this smile was unlike any smile she’d ever shown before. This smile was to dull, too soft. It wasn't the wide grin that so often adorned her face, it was much closer to Castiel's own smile. A broken smile to share between them.

 “I suppose I ran all out of tears” She whispered as she adjusted her black veil.

 

~0~

 

“You know,” The old woman sat nursing her beer. “You ain’t gonna be seeing me much longer”

 “I know”

 She smiled and leaned back into the seat, almost none of the leather was left to provide comfort for her in her age. But the shape of it was familiar and comforting in its own way; it made her feel like a little girl again. Hiding from a little boy.

 “I miss him” She took another sip.

 “I know” He matched her drink for drink.

 “I’ll tell your friend about his car”

 “He won’t like what’s become of her, I don’t think” He looked at her dash fondly “He was very particular about her”

 “I think she’s beautiful”

 

~0~

 

“You really shouldn’t be out here”

 “That’s what the doctors say,” She glanced sideways at him. “You ain’t a doctor are you?

 “No”

 “Good” She settled back, “Now shut up”

 The car was quiet except for her breathing, ragged, broken.

 “Anything you want me to tell him?”

 “He knows”

 

~0~

 

A couple little boys were playing tag when one stumbled upon an old rusted hunk of metal.

 “I think it’s a car” one whispered, quiet, to the other.

 “I know this place!” The other looked around, excited, “Old Lady Dee used to tell me about it! Apparently it’s Haunted-“

 “No way”

 “Yeah way! Don’t interrupt! It’s haunted by a lonely old ghost-“

 “Ghosts don’t exist!”

 “Yeah they do!”

 “Nuh-uh”

 “Yeah-huh”

 And the boys argued all the way home, until the smell of freshly made pies wiped the rusty old car and the lonely old ghost from their minds.


End file.
